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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893296">try to love one another right now</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life'>Duck_Life</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hallucination Lucifer (Supernatural) | Hallucifer, Hallucinations, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma From Lucifer's Cage (Supernatural), Weddings, discussions of torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing his brother, Sam spirals. His family is there to help him move forward and live the life he fought for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel &amp; Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester (Implied/Mentioned), Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Devil is sitting at the kitchen table, paging through a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Buffy the Vampire Slayer</span>
  </em>
  <span> comic Jack had only been halfway through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not, not really. Sam knows that. Knows that Lucifer, the real Lucifer, is still in the Empty and won’t ever get out, not now that Nick’s dead. He knows that Jack’s comic book is lying open on the table, unread, unfinished. He knows that the things he’s seeing, the things he’s been seeing with greater and greater frequency since Dean’s body burned, they aren’t real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing the truth doesn’t make the hallucinations easy to ignore, though. Lucifer makes a disparaging comment about Sarah Michelle Gellar. Sam pulls a TV dinner out of the freezer and slides it into the microwave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held it together okay during the hunt in Austin. Turned out to be a werewolf whose entire pack had recently been slain in a skirmish with some rivals. The wolf was hunting alone, wild with loneliness and attacking people at random. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam tries not to relate to the werewolf too much when he puts a silver bullet in his head. Miracle waits in the Impala while Sam torches the bones. Lucifer wonders aloud whether the burning flesh smells anything like Dean’s did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen’s been texting him. She was with Jody on a hunt when Dean died, and they’ve only spoken once since then, a short video call just so he could tell her the news. She’s sad, and she’s sorry. Lucifer says if she’d been in that barn with them Dean would still be alive. Sam says he has to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks about dying, and where his soul might end up. If he goes to Heaven, he’ll be with his brother again. But if he goes to Hell, Rowena will probably give him a fancy title and a crown. And he feels… fine. About both options. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam knows he has plenty to live for, even if it’s hard to remember that when the Devil is mocking him from the corner of his vision. He also knows, from books and blogs he’s read, that even the tiniest things are worth sticking around for. Miracle needs someone around to take care of him. There’s a book Sam borrowed from Bobby that he still needs to give back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Sam’s main reason to live right now is fear of what’s waiting for him in death. Because it might not be Heaven or Hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows Billie is gone, stuck in the Empty. But he can’t forget her threat, her promise— that when he dies, that’s where he’s going, too. Into the Empty, with the real Lucifer. And that’s not a risk he can take. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Sam stays alive. He washes his hair. He plugs his phone into the wall. He ignores his texts. He digs his thumb into the scar on his palm. He survives. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam remembers to eat because the dog needs to eat. About three times a day, he comes over to wherever Sam is surfing mindlessly on his laptop, or staring aimlessly at the ceiling, or trying  fruitlessly not to look at the initials and names carved on the tabletop. He comes over and whines and licks Sam’s hand, and Sam gets up and pours a cup of kibble into his bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since he’s in the kitchen anyway, he usually grabs something to eat— stale cereal, cold leftovers, a can of soup. He thinks about watching Dean in his apron, grilling burgers, the sizzling sound of them mixing with whatever Doobie Brothers song Dean happened to be humming. He thinks about Dean’s body, burning. (Just like Mom and Dad. Just like Jess.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas didn’t even leave behind a body to burn, not this time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jack,” Sam says into the empty bunker. “Jack, I don’t know if… No. No, I know you can hear me. Because you could always hear me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s gotten into Dean’s special-special liquor, and he’s slumped on the floor with his back against the wall where he and Cas used to sit and flick bottle caps across the floor to see how far they could go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t ask you to save Dean,” Sam says. “I didn’t… I knew that’s not what he wanted. What… what you wanted. But I’m…” Of everyone who’s scratched letters into that table, he and Jack are all that’s left. “Jack, I don’t know if I can… I’m lost.” He listens to the quiet and wonders if he’s been abandoned by two Gods in one lifetime. “I’m just lost.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucifer tells him he should try reading the Bible. Miracle comes over and plops down in front of Sam’s outstretched legs, resting his head on Sam’s knee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Sam goes into his brother’s empty room to listen to his music. Dean had been so excited about getting to keep a real vinyl collection, hitting up record stores and Goodwills all over the country to bring home his new treasures. Sam can remember watching him walk out of a used bookstore holding </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zeppelin IV</span>
  </em>
  <span> over his head in triumph. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s trying to decide if Supertramp’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Breakfast in America</span>
  </em>
  <span> is going to be enough to distract him from every ugly, painful thought hammering away in his head. It’s hard to tell what’s his own internal monologue and what’s the shadow of the Devil mocking him. The grinning waitress on the album art watches him with dead eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s halfway through “Take the Long Way Home” when he hears it— the whoosh and ruffle of wings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand grips his shoulder. “Sam.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam flinches so hard that he rams his elbow into the wall behind him, eyes blown wide in terror. “No,” he cries out, his entire body thrust into red alert. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s room is supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the bunker is supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but now something or someone is here and they’re going to kill him and that’ll be it, every name on the table scratched off forever, he’s going to die scared and alone and there will be no one left even to burn his body— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam?” A familiar angel stands before him, clad in the same trench coat and blue tie he was always wearing. The trench coat and blue tie he’d died in. Sam gasps in a breath, tries to collect himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He presses against the old scar on his palm, although it hasn’t done him any good the last couple of weeks so he doesn’t know why it would start now. He does his best not to acknowledge Castiel. He’s not real. Just another hallucination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam? You can hear me, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam purses his lips and says nothing, averting his eyes. He’s crouching between Dean’s record player and the wall, closing off, making himself small. The music sounds too slow and distorted now, sinister, but that’s probably just his fucked up brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, I’m back. Jack rescued me from the Empty… again. He said you stopped Chuck.” Sam says nothing. Even though a sick little part of him has been </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanting</span>
  </em>
  <span> this, has been </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanting </span>
  </em>
  <span>to start hallucinating Dean or Cas, just so he can see them again, he refuses to let the Devil win this one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because he’s certain that as soon as he says something to Cas, as soon as he lets himself even </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind of</span>
  </em>
  <span> believe this is real, then Cas will burst into flame or get sucked back into the Empty or— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or worse, his face will twist into an icy smile and the gravelly pitch of his voice will change and he’ll throw Sam against the wall, just like before, and just like before his cold fingers will sink into the place beneath Sam’s heart, clawing at the tangled strings of Sam’s soul and </span>
  <em>
    <span>twisting</span>
  </em>
  <span>— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, please,” Not-Castiel says, quietly, and he reaches up to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder again and Sam </span>
  <em>
    <span>screams</span>
  </em>
  <span>, jerking away from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> that isn’t really there, </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> be there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Not-Castiel steps closer, Sam can’t help himself from gasping, “Don’thurtme,” one strangled cry torn from his throat. And now he’s done it, now he’s ruined it all, because now that he’s admitted he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fake Cas, Fake Cas will start in on him, tearing and rending, taunting and mocking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reminding him that Dean is dead, and Cas is dead, and Jack is gone. And he’s alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not-Castiel kneels in front of him, and when did Sam get on the floor? The room warps around him, hard to keep track of. Not-Castiel is the only thing that seems solid, even though Sam knows he’s the one thing that’s anything but. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam,” the thing says. “What do you need?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What does he </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span>? A better grip on reality. Safety. Sanity. A kinder universe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Too close,” Sam huffs out, drawing his knees toward his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Not-Castiel listens. And Not-Castiel backs away. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” the thing explains. “I didn’t know… Sam, I didn’t realize you were having flashbacks again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what’s real,” Sam spits out. “And I know you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean told me you were in the Empty.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was,” the thing says. “I’m back now. Turns out me and the Empty really don’t go well together.” The thing smiles a kind of crooked smile, warm and familiar. Its eyes scrunch up in the way Cas’s always did. It backs away, hands held up carefully, and it perches on the corner of Dean’s bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam stares across the room. It doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> like a hallucination, not the way Lucifer does. It’s engaging with him. Worrying about him. Apologizing to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it wouldn’t be the first time Cas came back from the dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry about Dean,” the thing— Cas?— says. “I’ve been restructuring Heaven with Jack, making sure it’s… good… for Dean. But I, I should have checked in on you sooner. I didn’t think— but I’m, I’m here now.” His steady gaze is regretful, sad, fond. “I’m here, Sam.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the truth is, Sam’s traumatized brain has shown him the Devil plenty of times. It’s shown him his brother, his mom, Jess, funhouse mirror versions of himself. It’s never actually shown him Castiel before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why start now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam takes a chance, knowing it might hurt him later. He says, “Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Cas meets his eyes from across the room. “Right here.” Sam nods, pulls himself together, pulls himself up to a stand. He crosses the room and sits beside Cas at the foot of Dean’s bed. Sinks into the memory foam. Sits quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m… I’m really glad you’re back, man,” Sam says, voice weak and wavering. He’s been a wreck, and he’s still a wreck, but if there’s someone here to be a wreck with, well— “I’m really,” Sam starts, and then he leans over and wraps Cas up in a hug, and Cas squeezes back, clinging to him amid the wreckage and remains of Dean Winchester’s life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas cooks for him. Sam watches from the kitchen table as he boils pasta and thaws the Italian sausage he found in the freezer. It’s not much, but it’s better than the bare minimum meals he’s been robotically choking down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now, the Devil in his mind is quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s at peace,” Cas promises, not looking up from the boiling water. “Jack says he’s driving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Driving,” Sam repeats tiredly. “The car made it to Heaven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a good car.” It is. It’s sitting in the garage right now in all its glory, the carved initials and the Legos and the little green army man. It makes sense that Dean’s Heaven would be inside the Impala. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He, um,” Sam starts, feeling the twisting-aching-cold sting of grief in his chest, “he was—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told Jack to bring him back.” Cas’s revelation is sudden and stark. Sam just stares, wordless. Steam rises from the pot of noodles, almost looks like a halo around Cas’s head. “It was too soon, he was too young, it— Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> have died like that.” Cas’s eyes burn with loss. “I told him. I told him to return Dean to life.” Cas shakes his head. “He told me… he told me it wouldn’t be right. That… that ‘all stories have to end at some point.’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam watches Cas stir the noodles too fast with more force than is strictly necessary. “Dean didn’t want another miracle.” At his feet, the dog perks up at the mention of his name. Sam scratches behind his ears. “He didn’t want to d— didn’t want to go, but. He was done with the whole revolving door thing. I knew that. Jack knew that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s stupid,” Cas says, glowering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sam agrees, staring down at the table. “Yeah.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam and Cas sit on the edge of the map table, each with a beer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You need to leave this place," Cas says finally, surveying this bunker-turned-home-turned-prison. "Too many ghosts." He hesitates, glancing over. "Figuratively speaking, of course."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Means too much," Sam says. "This… the lore, the knowledge here… I can't just lock it up for good. That isn't fair, isn't right."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then we pass it on," Cas says. "Give somebody else the key, as your grandfather gave it to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looks around him, looks at the dust caked on books he hasn't touched in months. At the place where Michael sat, chained and grinning out of Dean's face. At the place where he gave Jack his first haircut. At the place where the Apocalypse World hunters were slaughtered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only person he can even think of passing the keys to is— "Maggie," Sam says blankly, remembering her shouting his name as Michael smote her. "It should be Maggie inheriting the place. I mean… I mean, she died twice to protect this goddamn bunker. It should have been hers."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It should have been," Cas agrees. Memories unspool in the silence. The angel sips his beer. “What about Eileen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t want it,” Sam says, ignoring the guilty twinge in his gut over how long it’s been since he’s gotten in touch with her. He has a string of texts from her on his phone. “I asked her once, before, uh… well, I asked if she’d ever want to move in, and she said she spent too much time underground already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t felt like a rejection, at the time— Eileen’s apartment wasn’t far away, and Sam understood why she wanted to stay there. For some reason he feels insecure about it now, though, despite the fact that he’s spent the past several weeks checked out of their relationship. Or maybe it’s because of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But," Sam says finally. "I think. If anyone should be taking ownership of the place… Stevie and Charlie?" He glances at Cas to gauge his reaction. "I mean, Stevie's already coordinating hunters across the country. And with Charlie's technical knowledge? Who knows, she might actually get the monster radar working without needing any nymph magic."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I like that idea."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Sam sighs. "Okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then of course the problem becomes, "So where will you go, Sam?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turns so Cas can get a good look at him— clean shaven, wearing a tie and a nice button-down to replace the ratty hoodie he’s spent the last week in. “You look very handsome,” Castiel assures him. “Although— your hair’s sticking up in the front. Here, let me.” He licks his hand and reaches over to smooth down Sam’s bangs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam bats his hand away. “Cas! Gross.” Sam checks his hair in the rearview mirror. “I don’t want your spit in my hair.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” Sam just rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe Eileen likes the ‘disheveled wilderness man’ look? Who am I to judge.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam pushes his hair out of his face until he’s decided it looks presentable. “There.” He glances at Eileen’s front door, and then back at Cas. “So. Assuming she doesn’t slam the door in my face—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, she’s not going to slam the door in your face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, well. What are you gonna do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> adorable angel is going to take </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> adorable angel to the groomers,” Cas announces, pointing to Miracle in the backseat. “He needs a trim, his nails clipped and to have his anal glands expressed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude. Gross.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, do you want his anal glands to become impacted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop talking about anal glands!” Sam looks back at the front door and rubs his palms on his jeans. “Alright. Here goes nothing.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam wonders if this is how Dean felt, showing up at Lisa’s after everything that happened in Stull Cemetery. Probably not. This is different— he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Dean is in Heaven, not trapped in a cage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he knows that he was a lot happier with Eileen than Dean ever was with Lisa. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He presses the doorbell and watches the lights flash through the window. When Eileen answers the door, Sam feels something in his chest loosen. Like he’s finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe</span>
  </em>
  <span> again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen smiles, eyes bright. “Hi, Sam.” She hugs him hard and he crumbles like a granola bar, folding over all five-feet-two-inches of her and crying, and his hair is probably messed up again. She strokes his back a few times, holds him tight, rocks from side to side. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam signs when he pulls away. He scrubs the tears from his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should have called</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she reassures him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m just glad you’re okay. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And he is. Right now, he is. He might not be tomorrow, but he can deal with that when it gets here. If he’s really lucky, Eileen will be there to deal with it with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she sees the Impala parked on the street, Eileen insists on coming out to pet Miracle and hug Cas. “Back from the dead too?” she says when he steps out of the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Couldn’t leave you to deal with the giant by yourself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cas signs. Eileen grins and looks over her shoulder at Sam before turning back to Cas. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s good to see you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You too. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen hugs him tight before going to give Miracle scritches through the window and kiss him on the top of his little head. She asks Cas if he wants to come in with her and Sam. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Have to take the dog to the groomers</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cas explains. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Getting his</span>
  </em>
  <span>— He pauses, thinking for a moment, and then starts fingerspelling </span>
  <em>
    <span>A-N-A-L-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!” Sam announces, sliding in to grab Cas’s hands before he can go any further. “We don’t need to get into all the gory details.” Eileen laughs at both of them and goes to give Miracle another kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When he was living alone in the bunker, Sam had felt like nothing actually belonged to him. Everything was </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his and Dean’s. The library, the war room, the garage. There were places and things that were Dean’s most of all, like the kitchen and the Impala. Even Sam’s own room wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hadn’t felt like his since the day Lucifer locked himself inside it to throw a tantrum, inside Cas’s body and inside Sam’s bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he moves in with Eileen, it feels like Sam starts having his own things again. His own side of the bed. His own brand of fair-trade coffee. His own seat at the kitchen table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he decides he needs a chest of drawers, he and Eileen spend a day at IKEA. She turns each display room into a sitcom setting as they’re walking through, inventing stories and drama with every new Råskog and Dagstorp. In one room, they are two adjunct professors going through a divorce. In the next, they are childhood sweethearts meeting again at college. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, darling,” Eileen says at one point, leaning against a Hauga. “I’m glad you brought me back from the depths of Hell. But your morning breath is terrible. This isn’t working out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam laughs. “No one would ever make a sitcom about our lives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Eileen says, “Chuck.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right, him. The bastard.” Eileen laughs and Sam kisses her in the light of the Sjöpenna.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is nice,” Cas decides. He’s sitting on the balcony with Sam, overlooking the scrubby patch of dirt that counts as a backyard. Eileen attempted to plant some chrysanthemums around the edges of the yard, but they’ve since withered and wilted. The fresh air feels good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love it here,” Sam says, tipping the patio chair back on two legs. “I love… I love her. I didn’t think I would get this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looks over at him, then he smiles and sips his beer. Miracle sits at their feet, tuckered out. The sun is sinking in the sky, painting everything red, pink and orange. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What have you been up to?” Sam asks. Last he heard, Cas was still living in the bunker, helping Charlie and Stevie get acclimated to the place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I go on cases,” he says. “With Charlie and Stevie, or with Bobby. But more permanently, I, ah. I got an apartment in Sioux Falls.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looks over at him, notes the small, satisfied look on Cas’s face. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I… Jody invited me to stay with her and the girls, but that felt a little too… I don’t know. It would have been awkward.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably, yeah.” Claire and Castiel have mended a lot of fences, but Sam has trouble picturing her being 100% cool with the guy wearing her dead dad’s face living under the same roof as her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m about a ten minutes’ drive,” Cas explains. “I help them on hunts. I’ve actually been helping Patience with her college essays. It’s good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds… good,” Sam agrees, but something is weighing on him. “So. You’ve got your… I mean, you can fly. Right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” Cas says. There’s an edge to his voice, like he knows where Sam is going with this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… if you wanted, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> go to Heaven. Yeah? I mean, you’re not like… banned.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not banned, no,” Cas confirms, gazing off into the distance. “If I wanted, I could flit back up to Heaven right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… you’re not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looks at him, face unreadable, and then he leans down to pet Miracle a few times, long, even movements from collar to tail. Buying time. Thinking. “You weren’t there, Sam,” he says finally. “When the Empty… when I died.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They haven’t talked about it. All Dean ever told Sam about it was that Cas summoned the Empty, and it swallowed him and Billie. He never went into detail about</span>
  <em>
    <span> how</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cas was even able to do that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d made a deal,” Cas explains. “When Jack was dying. The… when he died the first time.” Only in this family do you need to specify. “The Empty wouldn’t take him, so long as it got me. And its condition was that it would take me the moment I gave myself permission to be happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam lets that sink in. He sips his beer. He watches the sun get lower in the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam tries not to be the prying type, but he’s not an idiot. He lived with Dean all his life, and he’s known Cas for over a decade. He’s known them together and he’s known them apart, and he’s fairly sure he knows exactly what Cas’s happiness might look like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Sam says, “you gave yourself permission.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billie was coming,” Cas explains. “I knew that I could summon the Empty if I just… if I just did it. Told him. So I did.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I told Dean I loved him. That… that I was in love with him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam nods, tracing his thumb around the condensation on his beer bottle. “And?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And finally just </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying it</span>
  </em>
  <span> made me so happy that I immediately died,” Cas says flatly. “Now I’m back. And he’s gone.” He forces the saddest, most pathetic smile Sam has ever seen and says, “Irony, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you seriously just not going to talk to him?" Sam says. “I mean. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You just said you could go to Heaven. You could see him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas shrugs, putting on a show of being casual. "And say what?" Sam makes a face. "I already told him everything I had to say. And he's… he's happy, Sam. He's happy in Heaven. He just drives, just him and the open road."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He'd be happier if you were with him," Sam sighs. "He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>happier when you were with him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just…" Cas groans, dragging a hand over his face. "I was supposed to be dead. Forever. I only had the courage to </span>
  <em>
    <span>say </span>
  </em>
  <span>everything I said because I thought it was literally my last chance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tough," Sam says. "You're alive and he's… dead, but. You know. You're an angel. What's stopping you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas grimaces and mumbles something under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What was that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Whatifhedoesn'tfeelthesameway</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" Cas grits out all at once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam just smiles and shakes his head. He’s not going to pretend he sees some certain happy ending here, but he knows that talking things out is always better than ignoring them. "Only way to know for sure is to ask him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Over your dead body," Cas says seriously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam rolls his eyes. "Deal."</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The lamp on the bedside table gets switched on. Sam keeps his eyes closed, watches his world go from black to pink, light streaming through his eyelids and making him think of the fleshy visceral color of his own skin ripped from his bones, dried blood caked into the corners of the Cage, the sickly color of his still-beating heart where Lucifer clutches it in one hand and leers at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He draws in a deep breath and holds it, counts to three, lets it go. He can feel Eileen’s eyes on him, knows she must have felt him wake up gasping for air. When he finally forces his eyes open, she’s watching him with concern— as far away as she can sit without actually getting off the bed. Like she knows that touching him right now might be worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam signs, but she doesn’t buy it. He signs </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then can’t remember how to sign </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>, flounders, stares down at his own hands as he remembers the way it felt for those hands to kill Bobby and Cas. And Kevin. And— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam.” He looks at Eileen. She’s not moving, not leaving him alone or crowding him. Just there with him, in this bed and in this room. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re okay. You’re here. Not in Hell. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But the Devil is grinning a Cheshire cat’s grin from the shadows in the corner of the room. Sam squeezes his eyes shut, takes another deep breath and opens them. No Hell, no Satan. Just the woman he loves and the bedroom she shares with him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam swallows, trying to gauge how much he wants to say. It’s the first time he’s seen Lucifer since the bunker, and it was more the dregs of his nightmare than a hallucination. Sometimes memories of the Cage just get to be too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eileen understands. She’s been to Hell. She knows it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You told me once that you weren't ready to talk about Hell</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam signs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And that's okay, I respect that. But would it be alright with you if I talked about Hell?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen says yes, which is good and bad at the same time. Good, because he knows he needs to share this, needs to be seen and known. Bad, because a small part of him had been banking on her saying no, she couldn’t handle it, and he wouldn’t actually have to talk about it. Wouldn’t have to put words to the things that haunt his nightmares and his muscle memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this is where he is and who he’s with. He’s loved people he couldn’t share the worst parts of his life with, but Eileen is different. She’s like him, chased by monsters since infancy. She knows Hell, and she knows that even when you’re out, when you’ve been saved, the memories cling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he tells her. Not everything, but the big pieces. Being possessed. The long fall into Hell. The months and eons that passed in the Cage. (Faltering, he signs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hurt me. Everywhere. All the time</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And with steady hands, Eileen teaches him the sign for </span>
  <em>
    <span>torture</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Then she asks if it would be okay to hold him.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tells her about his time without a soul. It helps, in some ways, to have more recent examples for his explanations. He was Lucifer’s vessel in the way that Dean was Michael’s. He was soulless in the way that Jack was soulless. (None of it is the same, not really, but he thinks Eileen knows that, too.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he tells her about the way his mind broke, the way he had to put it back together with duct tape and safety pins. The games Lucifer played with him. The psych ward. How Cas took on the madness but not the memories. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It started happening again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tells her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>After Dean died. I think because I was… weak</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She corrects him gently. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Vulnerable</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For the first time in a long time, the world wasn’t ending</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam explains. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything caught up with me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dregs of sunlight are beginning to peek into the room. Gold and shadow creep across Eileen’s face. She looks beautiful. She looks sad. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should have been there for you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not your fault</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he promises. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I cut everyone out. Pushed you away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should have pushed back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I made it here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Then— </span>
  <em>
    <span> I love you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen’s teary-eyed smile is radiant. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you, too</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miracle nudges the bedroom door open to whine for his morning meal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first time Sam goes back to the bunker after moving out, Eileen is by his side. She actually walks in first, hugging Charlie before making her way down the stairs, and Sam considers once again her position as a Men of Letters legacy. This place could have been hers if she wanted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she chose her bright and airy apartment with the withered chrysanthemums outside and the tiny herb garden on the balcony. A building new enough and far enough from tragedy and horror that no one’s even died in it yet. (They’re pretty sure. Eileen checked for EMF before she moved in.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam is startled and kind of relieved to find that the war room looks a lot different. Charlie’s installed energy-saving bulbs, and the difference in lighting already makes the place look less like a secret society and more like a college library. There’s a kitschy-looking tapestry hanging in front of the interdimensional geoscope, and what looks like the remains of a D&amp;D campaign are spread out across the map table. (Sam might have thought it was real-life strategic planning if it weren’t for the dice.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chief,” Stevie greets him, and then she catches herself. “Sam. Sorry. Old habits.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it,” Sam says, giving her a one-armed hug. “Chief.” Stevie grins. “How’s it been going? How’s the water pressure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fabulous,” Stevie assures him. “We were worried about the hot water not lasting for long enough, but, uh…” She glances at Charlie with a mischievous grin. “Well, we found a solution that saves water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re all about sustainability,” Charlie says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen laughs. “I’ll just bet you are.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam got the majority of his personal effects when he left, but over the time he’s been living with Eileen, he’s come up with a list of things he needs to grab. A translation he left tucked into a book in the library, the French press that’s still in the kitchen cabinet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stevie’s making lunch, lemon chicken and macaroni salad and quinoa. Sam finds himself somewhat relieved that she’s not making burgers. Stevie and Charlie have done a good job making this place their own— nesting, in their own way, and in ways completely different from Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One thing won’t ever change, of course. Sam leans over the table in the library and traces his thumb across the DW etched there beside the other names and initials. His family. The people who made this place a home instead of a hole in the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After lunch, Sam convinces Stevie and Charlie to put their initials in the table. They make Eileen add her initials, too, and the cluster of people who have made their mark expands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam can tell when Eileen starts itching for a hunt. She insists she’s not antsy, but he notices the way her brow scrunches up when she comes across a headline on her phone. It’s been over a month since she last worked a case, joining a friend of hers for a haunting in Hannibal, Missouri. (She’d come back after a job well done with a split lip and a copy of Mark Twain’s autobiography for Sam.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He considers trying to find a case </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, but then she’d just ask him if he wanted to go and he would have to say no. Sam’s not ready for another hunt. (He might never be ready again, and he’s trying not to wonder about what that means for his future with Eileen.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas solves the problem by showing up at their home one morning with news of a town in Arizona where gravity is, apparently, “acting funky.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Funky how?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eileen asks him. In response, Cas pulls out his phone to show her and Sam the pictures of people hovering two feet in the air or, in some cases, stuck on the ceilings of their homes. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I think maybe a psychic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cas tells them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Changing the laws of reality</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He leans across the table toward Eileen. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could use the backup</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eileen says, looking excited about the prospect of talking down a real-life X-Men character. She looks over at Sam. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You won’t be lonely?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And Sam suddenly finds himself relieved that she doesn’t invite him. That she knows, and she understands. He’s relieved that he won’t have to choose between a sabbatical (retirement?) and watching Eileen go off on her own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not long after Eileen gets back from her case (with a wild story about a psychokinetic kid and Cas floating up in the air and bonking his head on the ceiling), she and Sam make a trip up to Sioux Falls to visit Jody and the girls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost entirely a social visit— except for Sam’s “secret mission.” He’s trying to figure out how to keep doing what he’s always done— saving people, hunting things— without doing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>exact same thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s always done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of getting back in the Impala without Dean, driving off to some random midwestern town with an ill-fitting suit and a cheesy alias, coming back from a hunt with blood caked under his fingernails and the smell of smoke on his clothes… Sam can’t do it. Or he doesn’t want to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But every time he’s tried to quit hunting in the past, it’s been by completely burying his head in the sand. First with Jess, then with Amelia. And it’s different with Eileen, of course it is, but he knows that she would let him stay completely out of the life, if that’s what he wanted. She’d take care of keeping plenty of salt in the house and making sure the guns were loaded, and he would never have to do a thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he’s not sure he can do that. At least— he doesn’t want to. So his “secret mission” on this otherwise routine trip to Jody’s involves picking Patience and Alex’s brains about the ways in which they help out without actually going on hunts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam spent his whole life taking advice from people older than him— his father, Dean, Bobby. It’s probably time he started letting the next generation teach him a thing or two.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staying at Jody’s is better than any B&amp;B Sam’s ever been to. (Not that he’s been to many. Unless the Lizzie Borden house counts.) Alex has recently gotten into foodie Youtube and greets them every morning they’re there with gourmet omelettes and French toast. Jody passive-aggressively suggests Sam trim his bangs and fusses over Eileen until she agrees to go to Goodwill and pick out a jacket that actually fits her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patience has a lot of ideas regarding the hunting community that’s been becoming increasingly more interconnected over the past five years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A lot of professions have specialists," Patience tells Sam and Eileen. "Why not hunting? Instead of every hunter having to do a ton of research for every case, you'd be able to call someone who's studied and fought that specific thing a lot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She has a point," Eileen says. "I devoted a lot of my life to knowing everything about banshees."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I've focused on wraiths for years," Patience says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you're a specialist, you could give seminars to other hunters," Sam says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh great." Sam looks up to see Claire leaning against the doorframe in pajama pants and a t-shirt. "The geeks have unionized." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patience rolls her eyes and keeps going. "But not just specialists. We could have advocates. People like Garth, with unique insight into living as a werewolf. Or, um. Well, I don't know any personally but I know they're out there— 'vegetarian' vampires."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Haha. Twi-hard." Claire throws Grumpy Cat at her and it bounces off Patience's shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Benny," Sam says. "Dean, um. Dean had a friend who was like that." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patience's eyes soften at the mention of Sam's brother. Eileen squeezes Sam's hand and then looks back at Patience. "These are all great ideas." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sam agrees, trying to imagine standing in front of a crowd of people and explaining the best ways to restrain and exorcise a demon without harming the host. (Of course, with Rowena in charge, demon possessions have become far less frequent.) He can picture it. Not working in the field, not more of the same violence that’s ingrained in his muscle memory. But helping just the same. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the second day of their visit, Sam spots Kaia and Claire working on a series of handmade posters spread across the kitchen table. He heads over, sipping a smoothie Eileen brought him from the shop in town. “Whatcha doing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaia glances up, looking distracted. “Oh, uh. There’s this wooded area a few blocks away. With a little creek, and some boulders… it’s gorgeous. But the city is tearing it down to build another crappy boutique.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that he’s closer, Sam can see the drawings of trees on the posters, as well as “SAVE SIOUX FALLS’ NATURAL BEAUTY” in bubble letters. He drinks his smoothie. “Maybe you can make it a protected area,” he suggests. “I mean, does it have any kind of, uh, historic value?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire is quick to say, “Yeah. It’s where we had our first kiss.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaia elbows her, but she’s smiling. “It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> that. The whole area is great for, you know, getting fresh air and listening to the creek running. It would suck to lose that. For a lot of reasons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I… I hear you,” Sam says. “And that’s what the posters are for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re trying to get the word out,” Claire explains. “Gather interest. We’re also gonna make a Facebook page and see how many other people in the neighborhood want to help.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Sam says, not sure if the tickle in his brain is from old pre-law knowledge or just a brain freeze from the smoothie. “Have you thought about trying to contact a nearby land trust?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire stares. “A what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then Sam starts talking about community involvement and conversational easements and grassroots organizing. He helps them with their plan, keeps in touch with the girls even after he and Eileen go back home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes weeks and weeks, but ultimately they manage to halt development and convince the company to build elsewhere. The nonprofit Sam puts Claire and Kaia in touch with can make sure that the creek and surrounding woodland are protected for a long, long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kaia sends Sam a drawing of him as the Lorax, which Sam doesn’t think is that funny but Eileen laughs at so hard she has to sit down. He has to admit— it feels good to be able to help someone in a way that has nothing to do with salt rounds or spellwork. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven months after they moved in together, Eileen takes Sam to D.C. under the pretext of visiting a friend of hers studying at Gallaudet. They do hang out with her the first night, sharing stories and wine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louise just adopted a Deaf puppy and laments about how often strangers, upon meeting her, have said, “Oh, you’re Deaf? So is my dog!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>And now I’m the one with the Deaf dog</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she tells Sam and Eileen resignedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you can’t beat them, join them</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Eileen currently has the puppy snuggled up in her lap. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s precious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I know she’s precious</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Louise agrees. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You think I’d get an ugly dog? No. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looks fondly at the little dog. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s her name?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Louise says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like from Peanuts. I even got her a little football toy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam can see it in the corner with the dog’s bed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Our dog has a squeaky moose toy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he signs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I had to take it away because it was keeping us up all night. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Keeping *him* up all night</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eileen points out, and Louise laughs. Sam asks her if Lucy knows sign language. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Louise says, </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, she doesn’t have any hands. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, Sam finds out the real reason for their trip when Eileen takes him to the Smithsonian and proposes to him in the Air and Space Museum, right in front of the Apollo 11 Command Module. When they get outside, Louise, Cas, Charlie and Stevie are waiting on the National Mall with a bottle of champagne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you have done if I’d said no?” Sam laughs, accepting a plastic cup of champagne from Cas, who’s made fast friends with Louise’s puppy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlie rolls her eyes. “Spy Museum,” she answers. “Duh.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>And then it’s cake tastings and bridal showers and wedding invitations. Their guest list includes Mildred Baker, the retirement home resident who helped them hunt the banshee that killed Eileen’s parents, as well as Mildred’s granddaughter, who Eileen and Sam recently helped move into her first apartment. Jody and the girls, of course, as well as Louise, Donna, Bobby, Garth and Bess, Sue Barrish (the real one this time), the Banes twins, Jesse and Cesar Cuevas, Dorothy (of Oz), Ophelia and Marco Avila, Sam’s imaginary friend Sully and the Roman goddess of luck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen asks Stevie to be her maid of honor while Sam claims Charlie as a groomswoman. Sam takes Cas on a weekend camping trip to ask him to be his best man. They drink beer and look at the stars and try not to get too teary-eyed thinking about who Sam’s best man would be had the world been a little kinder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The night before Sam’s wedding, Cas and Garth throw him a bachelor party in Cas’s apartment. (Eileen spends her bachelorette party out at a bar with Stevie, Louise, Bess, Donna, Jody and Mildred.) Apparently when Sam made Cas best man, Cas threw himself into preparing for the role. Which, for him, meant watching about 18 hours of Youtube videos about throwing the perfect low-key bachelor party.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s got platters of finger-food all laid out, a smoothie station, screen-printed t-shirts with SAILEEN emblazoned on them, a huge variety of board games and a home karaoke machine all plugged in and ready to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam picks up one of the board game boxes. “Seriously, Cas? A Ouija board?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Cas says with a shrug. His eyes have a mischievous glint. “Maybe you should try it out. See if there are any spirits hanging around.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam snorts. “Right, because a werewolf, an angel and a former psychic aren’t enough. Everyone knows it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> a party until the ghosts roll up.” Cas is just watching him expectantly, sipping his smoothie through a blue bendy straw. Sam rolls his eyes and opens up the Ouija board. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he places his fingertips on the planchette, the effect is immediate. His hands jerk forward, the aperture over the word HELLO. Sam looks up at Cas to see if his best man is pranking him, but Cas holds up his free hand in a show of innocence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The planchette moves again. S-A-M-U-E-L. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam squints down at his own hands. “Wait.” And then there’s a shimmer in the air, and a slim pair of hands appear above his, fingers adorned with gaudy rings. When he looks up, Sam finds himself face-to-face with the Queen of Hell herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t think I’d miss your bachelor party,” Rowena says with a wink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Cas and Garth get tangled up in a game of Twister, Rowena explains that she’s been trying hard to keep everything Hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hell. Which means fewer possessions and crossroads deals, but it also means she hasn’t been able to visit up top. When Cas summoned her for the party, though, she couldn’t pass it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t be able to make it to the ceremony, unfortunately,” Rowena tells Sam. “You’ll give that bride of yours my congratulations I hope?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Sam says with a smile, and then he listens as Rowena launches into a story about her recent passionate romance with Lizzie Borden’s eternally damned soul. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie shows up about an hour into the bachelor party and keeps joking about having called a stripper, which earns her an eye roll from Sam and several furious death glares from Castiel, who takes any deviation from his carefully planned schedule as a personal affront. Sam’s almost surprised the angel didn’t make up conversation cards full of curated talking points. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Sam says, clinking his bottle against Cas’s after he switches from smoothies to beer, “any pearls of wisdom from my best man?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas looks at him thoughtfully. “As you know, I’ve been married twice before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I— what? </span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Cas what the hell are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas tilts his head to the side. “You didn’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>married</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Sam splutters. “Twice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose Dean and I forgot to tell you,” Cas muses, which just about makes Sam’s brain short-circuit. Cas notices, and smiles a little sadly. “No, I don’t mean… I was married to a woman named Daphne. She found me wandering in the woods. No memories. Or clothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Sam says, “she married you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naturally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naturally. Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The second time was mostly for political reasons,” Cas goes on. “I married the Djinn Queen guarding the Tree of Life. I must have forgotten to mention that due to being sucked into the world of Scooby Doo and the Mystery Gang.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Naturally,” Sam says. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the evening winds down, with Garth driving Charlie home and Rowena vanishing in a dramatic puff of smoke, Sam finds himself propped up on Castiel’s pullout couch in pajama pants and one of the SAILEEN t-shirts. He and Eileen decided they’d stay apart those 24 hours leading up to the wedding, so he’s crashing at Cas’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s kind of nice, knowing that Eileen is away from him not for a hunt, or because she’s in danger, but because of a silly tradition. Knowing that he will see her tomorrow, looking radiant in her dress, and he’ll probably be crying. And… and everything’s going to be okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas drops down next to him, also in pajamas. In a quiet voice, he says, “He’d be so excited for you, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam bobs his head. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’d, uh. He’d tell you that Eileen’s way too good for you,” Cas says, “but then he’d say that, actually, the two of you are just right for each other. Just perfect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sam says, scrubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah.” He looks over at Cas, once a fierce warrior of Heaven, now perched on the arm of a couch he found on Craigslist, dressed in pajamas he bought at Target. His shoulders are bowed by the weight of wings and a grief that won’t ever really fade. “Did you ever think about it?” Sam says. “Getting married. I mean besides Daphne and the Djinn Queen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas smiles a little. “Took me 12 years to admit how I felt to Dean,” he points out. “At that rate? Probably would have taken me another dozen years to propose. Probably longer, if I’m being honest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless he beat you to it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dwelling on the what-ifs,” Cas sighs, “won’t do anyone any good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, probably not,” Sam tells him. “But the future’s wide open. I plan to live a good long life, but I’m not gonna live forever, Cas. When I go… you’re coming with me. You said. But that gives you a good, what, 40 years? To come up with what you want to say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You consume a lot of superfoods and exercise frequently,” Cas points out. “Probably closer to 50 years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever,” Sam says. “Whenever it happens, you give me a nice hunter’s funeral, and then you get your ass to Heaven so you can, you know. ‘Give yourself permission to be happy.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t know how Dean was going to react,” Cas says. “What decision he would have made.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He made the decision,” Sam says, a little tipsy and a little tired. “He made the decision so many times without ever saying it, Cas. If you’d just… if you guys had had time…” He trails off, staring at the mod-podged puzzle hanging on the opposite wall. Eileen and Cas spent a week last winter huddled over a coffee table and piecing it together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe,” Cas says finally, very softly now, “that there will be time for me and Dean. Someday… somewhere. We’ll finally have time.” He offers Sam a watery smile. “But that time isn’t now, and that’s okay. Let’s stop planning </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> funeral and </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> wedding. Tomorrow’s your day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, tomorrow’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eileen’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> day,” Sam says, mostly joking. Cas looks worried, probably flashing back to a brainwashed Sam declaring, </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is my wife’s house, I am simply living here.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam grins. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Our</span>
  </em>
  <span> day. Me and her. Tomorrow’s our day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes it is,” Cas says, clapping him on the shoulder. “So get some sleep. You don’t want eyebags in your wedding photos.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Sam is retying his tie for the third time, Claire bursts into the fancy bathroom that’s been designated the groom and groomsmen’s prep area. She’s holding a camcorder and looking incredibly tense. “Hey!” she says, plastering on a fake smile. “Sam! I’m making a wedding video. Any words to say before you, uh, tie the knot?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam stands there startled, hands still frozen mid-half-Windsor. “I’m… excited? Nervous I guess? I don’t really know why I should feel nervous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Claire’s smile is wide, but her eyes are panicked. Instead of looking at Sam, she’s staring at the video preview screen on her camera. “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” she mumbles. “So how did you and the bride meet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Sam says, suddenly camera-shy in addition to his wedding day jitters. “Well! There was this banshee at a nursing home—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great, awesome story,” Claire cuts him off, eyes locked on the video screen. “Well! Good luck out there! See you on the dance floor!” And then she’s gone, leaving Sam to stare bemusedly at the door swinging shut behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Tomorrow, he’ll find out that Eileen discovered a pile of teeth, skin and nails in one of the bathrooms and enlisted Claire and Cas to help her figure out who at the venue was a shifter in disguise. It was Claire’s idea to use the videocamera to test guests and members of the wedding party for the telltale retinal flare.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ultimately, Jody’s girls take down the would-be wedding crasher, who apparently thought it would be hilarious to sneak in and attack a bunch of distracted Hunters. But Sam won’t find that out until later. For now, all he’s worried about is spontaneously forgetting how to sign in the middle of his vows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He doesn’t. The ceremony goes perfectly.) No music plays to herald the bride’s entrance, but it’s obvious when she arrives by the smile that breaks across Sam’s face. A hush falls over the crowd, and everyone turns to watch as Eileen walks down the aisle, beaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s wearing Cas’s tie loosely around her neck. “Something borrowed and something blue,” Eileen explains when Sam gives her a questioning look. Her “something old” is her mother’s necklace, which Sam had repaired and polished as a birthday present to Eileen, and her “something new” is the veil that Kaia and Alex made for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it comes time for their vows, Sam is crying but his hands are sure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find someone who understands me like you do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tells his beautiful bride. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You inspire me every day. I’m ready to spend the rest of my life making sure you feel as safe, happy and loved as you make me feel. Sharing my life with you is the best adventure I can imagine. I love you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen’s crying too, and smiling, and Sam loves her so much he feels like he can’t hold it all inside himself. He thinks, suddenly, of angels too strong for their vessels to hold them, but he quickly shakes the thought away. This isn’t grace, this isn’t some invading presence. It’s just love, plain and simple, so bright and light that he feels like it’s lifting him off the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You make me better</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eileen signs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You make the world better. Before I met you, I didn’t understand that I could do what I do as part of a community. As part of a family. You are my family, Sam. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And then she’s crying too hard, and Sam steps forward to hold her and hug her until she can continue. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Til death do we part” doesn’t apply to us. We didn’t even let that get in our way. I’m so grateful to be standing here with you, celebrating our wedding, something I never thought I would have. I love you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They exchange rings, and they kiss, and then Eileen trips on the hem of her dress and Sam is quick to catch her but she’s so startled she bursts out laughing, and then Sam joins in and can’t stop, and the newly married couple just stands there giggling uncontrollably until the groom gets hiccups. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Salad, salmon and tofu stir-fry make up the menu at the reception. Sam and Eileen sip sparkling wine and watch delightedly when Castiel stands up to give his best man speech. “When Sam first met Eileen,” Cas begins, “he mistakenly told her to fuck off.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sets all the guests off, and Cas waits for the laughing to quiet with a pleased little smile on his face before he continues. The rest of his speech is sweet and heartfelt, in that kind and kind of awkward way that Cas usually manages. It’s wonderful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had only a few requests for the music list, most specifically: no songs with God in them. Sam guesses that the DJ probably just thinks he and Eileen are atheists, and he’s fine with that assumption. The truth is a lot harder to explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless, he’s not about to spend his wedding reception dancing to lyrics like “Thank God I’m yours” or “God gave me you” when God did everything in his power to keep them apart. They also asked for a lot of high-energy songs with plenty of bass-thumping, the kind of stuff Eileen and her Deaf friends love to dance to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam and Eileen’s first dance is to Celine Dion’s “Have You Ever Been in Love,” with the lyrics displayed on a big screen behind the DJ’s stand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it’s time to cut the cake, Eileen and Sam smash their pieces into each other’s faces. As he wipes frosting off his chin, Sam thinks about shoving pie into Dean’s face on one of his brother’s last days alive. And at least for today, the memory doesn’t hurt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later, Sam notices Jody squinting at something on her phone in deep concentration. Then, she tucks her phone away and makes her way over to where the newlyweds are sitting. Carefully, Jody signs YOU-WANT-TO-DANCE-WITH-ME? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen grins and jumps to her feet, letting Jody sweep her off to the dance floor near where Kaia and Claire are swaying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas breaks away from whatever conversation he’s having with Garth and Bess to ask Sam to dance as well. Spinning around with his best friend, smiling up at his wife across the dance floor— Sam tries to reconcile this moment with everything leading up to it, and it just doesn’t compute. So he stops trying to make sense of it and just lets himself have it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Sam went to Lawrence to spread Dean’s ashes, he was alone. When he goes back on what would have been Dean’s 43rd birthday, he has Eileen and Cas with him. Eileen brings flowers, some for Mary and some for Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas kneels before Mary Winchester’s tombstone and reaches into the pocket of his trench coat. He pulls out a cassette tape labeled “FOR DEAN” and nestles it in the soil where Sam put Dean’s ashes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Cas turns to look up, his eyes are wet. “It’s a gift,” he explains to Sam. He doesn’t stand up again for a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When Eileen and Sam first start talking about possibly becoming parents, Sam’s hesitant. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Neither of us really had parents growing up</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he reminds her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How do we know either of us would be good at it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You did a great job with Jack</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she points out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sighs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack was different</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he explains. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t have to worry about dropping him and busting his head open. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But they keep talking about it. Sam sees babies at grocery stores and catches himself making funny faces at them, glowing a little when they smile back. He imagines having a family with Eileen, and it doesn’t scare him the way bringing children into this world used to scare him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He is happy. He is safe. If he were to have a child, he can be sure they would also be happy and safe.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>About two months after they start trying, Eileen returns from a case with Cas. There’s something mischievous in her smile, but Sam isn’t sure what that means. Then, Cas tells him that they found a strange artifact when investigating the deaths of two people in Illinois. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We think it might be some kind of Celtic divination tool,” Cas explains, pulling a pouch out of his pocket. “You know more about witchcraft than either of us. Could you take a look at it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Sam says, glancing from Cas to his wife. “Sure.” He holds his hand out for the pouch, and Cas hands it to him, eyes eager.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam knows he’s being played, but he doesn’t figure out how until he reaches into the pouch and pulls out a thin plastic stick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With two lines on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Sam says, glancing up from the positive pregnancy test to Eileen, who’s beaming. “Holy shit. I mean… I mean. Wow! I mean…” (And maybe it shouldn’t be such a huge surprise, but there have been doubts for both of them. They’ve both died and come back. They’re past 35, and… and Sam doesn’t talk about it, but part of him was worried that he might still carry the corruption of Azazel’s blood, that he might, after all this time, still be too far from human to father a child.) Sam looks at Eileen, a huge smile on his face. “Baby…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby,” Eileen confirms, grinning stupidly back at him. He cradles her face in his hands, kisses her with every ounce of exuberance and joy and enthusiasm that’s rocketing around in his body right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he’s done kissing her, he pulls Cas into a hug. “I’m gonna be an uncle,” Cas says proudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Eileen agrees, leaning back against their kitchen countertop. There’s so much ahead— more trips to IKEA, doctor’s visits, somehow finding space for the new addition. But for now? For now, they celebrate. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With Eileen pregnant, she and Sam have become extremely aware of the fact that neither of them has all that much experience taking care of kids. Eileen wasn’t exactly a member of the Babysitter’s Club when she was Lillian O’Grady’s teenage ward, and Sam’s first son popped out already a full-grown adult. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turns out, Garth and Bess are all-too-eager to help them get some more experience. “If Castiel gets fussy, just give him some juice,” Bess says, handing one of her twin toddlers over to Eileen. “He can’t get enough of the stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garth passes Sam (baby) to Sam (grown-up), shoulders relaxing as though he’s shedding some great weight. “Thanks so much for watching them,” he says. “You boys excited for your weekend with Uncle Sam and Auntie Eileen?” he addresses his kid, leaning forward to plant a kiss on baby Sam’s forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gertie steps forward, looking very prepared with her Frozen backpack and twin braids. “You be a good big sister, okay?” Bess says, placing a hand on top of her daughter’s head. “And listen to Sam and Eileen, okay? They’re good people.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gertie nods. “I brought Boggle.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bess glances at Sam apologetically. “She’s on a Boggle kick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love Boggle,” Sam informs her. “I think we’re gonna have a great time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are we,” Garth says, nudging his wife as he winks at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bess laughs and elbows him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Honey</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have a great weekend,” Sam says quickly, hoisting the toddler in his arms higher so he can wave goodbye to Garth and Bess. “See you Sunday night!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you!” Bess says. She gives each of her kids a goodbye kiss, and then Garth does the same. And then they’re gone, leaving Sam and Eileen in charge of the kids for the next two days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So,” Gertie says after having beat Sam at Boggle three times. (And he’s actually trying.) “Do you and Big Castiel ever have sleepovers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Big Castiel?” Sam asks, and then he glances over to the living room, where he knows that Castiel and Sam (babies) are napping. “Oh, like. Cas? I, uh. I guess we used to have… sleepovers. Not since I started living here, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Gertie says, carefully placing the lid back on the Boggle pod so she can shake up the letters again. “My mom and dad have sleepovers with Big Castiel a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They… what?” Sam says, trying to puzzle that out. Cas crashes with Garth and Bess? It’s not like he goes on that many hunts near their home. And besides, he’s usually with Eileen when he’s hunting, and they stay in motels. “He sleeps at your house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He sleeps in Mommy and Daddy’s room,” Gertie reveals, dropping her voice to share her top-secret information. “I don’t think I’m s’posed to know that, though, so. Shh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh.” Sam’s brain is bluescreening. “In their room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw him walking out one morning,” Gertie says. “Also! I think he’s sleeping over right now, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is, huh,” Sam says, mind racing. He’s not sure if Gertie is saying what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks </span>
  </em>
  <span>she might be saying… and he’s not sure if he wants to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, it’s time for their next round of Boggle. Gertie flips the timer, and Sam tries to push this newly gleaned information out of his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam manages to ignore what Gertie told him until a week later when he's hanging out with Cas and sees him browsing the Edible Arrangements website.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to send Garth and Bess something," Cas explains. "A thank you for a memorable evening." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam considers saying something, but then he realizes that he's not sure he can actually say the words "werewolf angel threesome" out loud. So he drops it, and suggests that Cas order the bouquet of pears cut into little hearts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just so you know,” Sam says, “uh, Eileen and I only have a queen bed. So we don’t… I mean, we’re not really looki—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam, relax,” Cas says easily. “I have no interest in bedding you or your wife.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well now I don’t know if I should be relieved or offended.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You think it’s a girl or a boy?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sam asks, Eileen’s feet propped in his lap while the two of them read on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen shrugs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Does it matter? Healthy, happy, safe. That’s all I want</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam smiles. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me too</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Then he asks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>What do you think a hunters’ gender reveal party would look like?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, God,” she laughs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Something witchy. You do a spell and whatever color the smoke is lets you know</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Serial killer themed gender reveal party</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Will we have a little Gacy or a little Lizzie? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eileen signs, shaking with laughter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I watched your creepy documentary with you. I’ve earned a break from serial killer talk.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fair</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen puts a pause on hunting somewhere during her second trimester. (She tells Sam she could have kept it up longer, but Cas was getting increasingly more annoying in his concern for her. “He won’t even let me help dig up bones,” she complained to Sam one night. “It’s like, I’m pregnant. Not porcelain!”) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s glad to have more time at home with her before the baby comes. (And glad he gets a break from staying up late, worrying about her chasing down ghouls and ghosts and revenants.) He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> glad she’s found a way to do what she’s good at without wearing herself out or giving up all the trappings of home and comfort. He’s glad to see that it’s possible. He still doesn’t see himself joining her out there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They start house hunting in anticipation of their new arrival. As attached as Eileen and Sam both are to the apartment they share, they don’t have room for a nursery. Plus, Sam wants a decent-sized yard where he and the kid can play catch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they check the listings and hit up open houses. Every time they tour a house, Sam pulls the realtor aside to ask about schooling in the area while Eileen steals away to check for EMF. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they find a house with a sunny yellow porch and plenty of space in the yard. Before they even sign the lease, Eileen’s already brainstorming the tackiest wallpaper to put in the living room because it reminds her and Sam of the kind of motels they both grew up in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Neither of them exactly have a legitimate line of credit, but Garth manages to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> that gets everything okayed by the bank. Sam and Eileen decide not to ask too many questions.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen says goodbye to her wilted chrysanthemums and buys rose bushes for the new house. Soon enough she’s got a real garden going, including a section for herbs to use in cooking. After some deliberation, Sam starts growing his own herbs for use in spells. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still got stores of seeds and bulbs from Rowena’s secret stash, plus things he took from the bunker. Since losing his brother, Sam’s learned all kinds of ways to do good without actively hunting. It’s past time he embraced one thing he was always good at: witchcraft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The baby’s nursery has a mobile with plastic fishes and a baby camera and a whole menagerie of stuffed animals amassed from Claire, Kaia, Alex, Patience and Garth. It also has small charms hanging over the bassinet, sigils hidden beneath the wallpaper, protective hex bags tucked behind the board books on the shelves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Sam has nightmares about a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the darkness of his child’s nursery. He knows Eileen has similar dreams about banshees. And they talk to each other about it, but they also bring their concerns up in therapy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen’s been seeing a counselor Stevie put her in touch with, a former hunter who got her degree and dedicated her life to helping people affected by the supernatural. Sam has a monthly video session with Mia Vallens, the shapeshifting grief counselor Sam once suspected of murdering her clients.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life’s funny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mia doesn’t use her shapeshifting with Sam, though they’ve discussed what he might gain from her appearing as Dean. (Even John, even Mary. Even Jess.) She helps him get perspective, helps him work through the worries and fears that twist his thoughts into spirals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cas keeps insisting he’s an online-certified doula and could definitely help Eileen with a home birth, but she’s not having it. Hospitals have equipment and drugs and, most importantly, nurses and doctors who didn’t get their training from a 12-hour online course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eileen goes into labor three weeks early, while Sam is halfway across the country helping Alex and Stevie set up a resource center for vampires. He gets the call and leaves in a panic, leaving the Impala with Alex and booking the next flight to Kansas he can get. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushes through the airport, backpack swinging haphazardly between his shoulder blades, trying to stop his traitorous brain from playing out nightmare scenarios. Their home isn’t far from the hospital. Eileen knows what she’s doing. Breathe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Breathe</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his boarding group gets called, Sam scans his ticket with shaking hands and rounds the corner onto the jetway—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only to find himself suddenly standing in a hospital waiting room back in Kansas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam blinks, checks the clock on the wall and his watch. He hasn’t lost time or blacked out. He’s just… here now. Instantaneously. “Cas?” Sam mumbles under his breath, glancing around, but his friend is nowhere to be seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though it goes against his instincts, Sam decides not to look this gift horse in the mouth. (At least, not for the moment.) Instead, he heads to the receptionist’s desk to ask which room his wife is in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean Padraic Leahy-Winchester is born on January 25th, a little over two years after Dean Winchester’s death. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The initial idea is to name their son John Padraic, after both their fathers. It’s Eileen who suggests Dean rather than John. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eileen holds her new baby close, smiling down at his pink face. After she hands him to Sam, she signs, looking guilty, </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll get cuter, right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s beautiful! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam declares.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His face is all swollen,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eileen points out, and Sam can’t argue with her on that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The swelling will go down,” Sam assures her, having trouble signing and holding the baby at the same time. “And if not… there’s a room full of babies down the hall, we can switch him out for a cuter one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“SAM,” she gasps, but they’re both laughing. Baby Dean nestles against Sam, leaning into the rumble of his father’s laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sam sees Jack the day after his son is born. He's rocking his child to sleep in the nursery, hunched over in the rocking chair he and Eileen bought antiquing, and then suddenly there's someone else in the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack's presence seems to fill up the room, and Sam imagines he can see the boy's wings illuminated against the yellows and greens of the walls. "Hi, Jack," Sam says quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack watches him, eyes wide. "I told myself I wouldn't come."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad you did." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I… ?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam sees what he’s asking and passes the baby over to Jack, watches his first son cradle his second son with incredible care and gentleness. Jack is the most powerful being in the world now, but he looks blown away by this tiny human baby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was you,” Sam realizes, watching Jack looking down at the baby in wonder. “You got me to the hospital in time. You… teleported me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looks guilty, embarrassed even. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I said I would be hands-off, and… and I have been. It just… it seemed like such a little thing? And Eileen was alone. People shouldn’t be alone when they have their babies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam thinks, suddenly, of his mother, exhausted and still collecting herself after being literally brainwashed, sitting beside Kelly Kline and holding her hand while she gave birth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack,” Sam says, alarmed at the sudden grief and anger coiling within him. He takes a deep breath, and he takes his baby back, sets him down in the bassinet. “Jack. When… after Dean died. When I was alone. I prayed to you. Called out to you… wh-where were you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The look Jack gives him is sad, so ancient and young at the same time. Part of Sam regrets letting him go that day, the day his family stopped Chuck and saved the world one last time. When Jack said he wasn’t coming home, Sam should have said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, you are</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He should have clung tight to his kid and never let go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I learned a story,” Jack says. “Maybe it’s a joke? It goes like this: A man is stranded in a flood. He prays to God to save him. Someone paddles by in a rowboat and offers to help, but the man says he has faith God will save him, and the rowboat goes on. Then a motorboat comes by and offers to help, too, but the man says he knows God will deliver him from the flood. Finally, a helicopter flies overhead, drops a ladder and tells the man to climb up. He still says no, because God will save him. Then he drowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the man goes to Heaven, he asks God why He didn’t save him from the flood. And God says, ‘What more did you want from me? I sent you two boats and a helicopter!’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam nods. “So you’re saying you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> answer my prayers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I sent you Castiel,” Jack says. “He was helping rebuild Heaven, but… I knew you needed him more than me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas is my rowboat,” Sam sighs, thinking about the spiral he’d been on before Castiel returned to the bunker. Cas coming back didn’t magically fix all his problems, but it did give him the stability he needed to regain his footing. “... Thank you, Jack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack bends down to give his baby brother a kiss on the forehead. Sam realizes with a start that if Jack’s age worked like a normal kid’s, he’d be about as old as Dean was when Sam was born. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you talk to Dean?” Sam asks. “I mean. You know. My brother Dean.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” Jack says. “But mostly he drives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Sam says. Jack passes the baby back to Sam, and he continues rocking back and forth in the chair. “Think you can tell him we named the kid after him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack smiles, eyes watery. “Of course, Sam.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Having a baby around is interesting. Sam keeps panicking that he’s just going to forget, and he and Eileen will leave the house with the kid still in his crib, but so far nothing like that has happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miracle seems very confused about the tiny new arrival. Once he established that Dean was a new family member as opposed to a threat, though, he became the child’s most devoted protector. Instead of sleeping downstairs, Miracle started sleeping in front of the nursery door, a stalwart guardian. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam takes a picture of his son grabbing a fistful of Miracle’s fur while the dog endures Dean’s grabby hands. He shares it online alongside a photo of Miracle and his original owner (</span>
  <em>
    <span>Big Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sam thinks) and Charlie comments that it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One night while Eileen and Sam are struggling to put the baby to sleep, Sam gets desperate and calls Cas for help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas takes one look at the new parents’ tired eyes and scoops up baby Dean, rocking him gently while singing the theme song from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Star Trek: Enterprise</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It works— pretty soon, Dean’s out like a light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out Castiel’s not done making miracles happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dean’s first word is </span>
  <em>
    <span>dad</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he signs it. Eileen comes sprinting across the house one morning with the baby bundled in her arms. “Sam, Sam!” she calls, smile wide across her face. She turns excitedly from her husband to her son and signs, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who’s that?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid blinks his little eyes, squints at his mother and then his father, and then he spreads out his little hand and taps his little thumb against his little forehead. And Sam isn’t crying, he’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> not</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his eyes are just maybe a little bit watery when he signs back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s right, I’m Dad.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After kissing Eileen and the top of Dean’s head, Sam asks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who’s she?</span>
  </em>
  <span> and points to Eileen. Tap-tap goes Dean’s thumb against his chin, and Sam nods and tells him that’s right, and he pulls his family in close. He’s seen burning bushes and resurrections, but this, his child’s first words, something so simple and so normal, feels more like a miracle than anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam finishes making breakfast, and Dean throws bits of frittata all over the floor and Eileen gets a call about a case before she’s finished her coffee. Sam wonders briefly if this is how it always could have been, but he tosses the thought aside. This is how it is now. This is how it will be. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is what Dean wanted,” Sam reveals, burrowing his toes further in the warm sand. Down the beach, he can see Jody and Eileen laughing about something while Alex works on her tan. Kaia and Patience are getting increasingly more competitive over what began as a friendly sandcastle building contest. Silhouetted against the sunlight, Claire is helping young Dean pick out shells at the shoreline. She holds his hand tight as he toddles along the wet sand. “He told me, once. The three of us, cold beers. Matching Hawaiian shirts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like the shirts,” Cas says, looking down at the patterned button-ups he and Sam are sporting. “My usual wardrobe is fairly… constricting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sam says, “the Vacation Dad look definitely suits you.” Cas smiles, but there’s something wistful in it. Sam notices. “Jack is with us,” he reminds Cas. “He’s here— the ocean, the sand, the breeze. The sky. That’s… that’s him. That’s our kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Cas sighs. “Hard to find a matching Hawaiian shirt for the ocean and the sky, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear you,” Sam says, and he sips his beer. Today is a good day. Today is a day when Dean’s memory doesn’t taste bitter, doesn’t weigh heavy on him like it does on other days. He’s not sure how long that will last, but it’s nice for now. Sam raises his bottle. “To everyone we lost along the way.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas clinks his own beer against Sam’s, and they drink, watching the sunlight bounce across the waves. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! I know this isn't a fix-it in terms of Dean and the rebar, but the thing that annoyed me most about 15x20 was Sam's weird generic montage devoid of his actual character development as well as any of the established characters who care about him... So I decided I'd make my own version. I started writing this mid-December and I'm very excited to finish it and share it. </p><p>Find me at nougatnonbinary on tumblr if you wanna come yell at me about Garth/Bess/Cas, Saileen St. Paddy's Day wedding or Sam being a dad.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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